December 20

Today was a crazy one. Circumstances were such that I wound up driving our commuter car, the 16-year old Honda Civic that I bought as a college student, for some of my outings. I'm not behind her wheel often at all anymore, and was startled when I looked down at the odometer and saw this:

Sure, it's just a bunch of 7s and 1s (and an errant 8 that was a 7 just before I pulled over so I could take this pic). But it's more than that to me. You'll have to stay with me, because it's something of a confusing, tangled tale I'll spin.

See, I bought this car on July 31, 1997, nine years to the day before Logan was born. And Logan loved riding in what he termed "the little red car." There was something about it that really caught his fancy and made him happy on a very basic level. So that's part of what caught my eye -- the 7s (for July) and the 1s (for part of 31).

And beyond that, I've always been drawn to the number seven. I feel like it's silly to have a favorite number at 35 years of age, but I do. Further, I was born on 1/11 -- ones everywhere!

So in a convoluted sort of way that only I may fully grasp, in that single moment when I looked down and saw the display, I felt like Logan was waving at me from Heaven.

And that's always a God winky experience for me.